


Blame The Vodka

by Green_Arrows_of_Karamel (Mare9548)



Series: Birthday presents for dearies [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Angst with no happy ending, Booty Calls, Drunken sex, F/M, Post-Break Up Sex, Smut, angsty smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-09
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-09-07 04:05:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8782297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mare9548/pseuds/Green_Arrows_of_Karamel
Summary: Drinking the vodka bottle that Oliver keeps in the bunker brings desired, but uncomfortable consequences for both Felicity and Oliver.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Laurabella2930](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurabella2930/gifts).



> This is dedicated to the wonderful, beautiful and super talented Lauren. Because she gave this prompt, I thought it’s an appropriate gift. But as awful as I am, I took FOREVER to write it. But I finally did, and here it is. Happy (super extra belated) birthday girl!! View this as a combination of Happy birthday and Christmas present. I hope you like it (even with all the angst fest that this thing is. Without happy ending. #SorryNotSorry). 
> 
> **AN:** This occurred during the summer.

It had never been her intention when she left the loft in the middle of the night, but she was back to the bunker. It was where she felt safe, where she could function almost at normal capacity. Team Arrow secret headquarters kept her guilt and nightmares at bay. There, she could atone for what she had done. She could honored all those people who died because of the decision she made. It was the only thing that helped her to go through the day. Every day.

Felicity stepped in the bunker as the elevator door opened. It was almost completely dark except for the light coming from the elevator and the blinking little bulbs on her babies. The computers. Those inanimate objects that were her life. She always loved computers and coding, but now they were a safe line. They didn’t judge her. They didn’t look at her with pity or recrimination. They were the instrument with which she help to save the city.

There has been just enough light for her to make a beeline for her station. She sagged on to her chair. She was exhausted, and yet she couldn’t sleep. Closing her eyes meant to let the memories of two months back into her mind. She dreamt over and over again the moment when she decided to alter the course of the nuke to Havenrock. She couldn’t stop thinking about all those people who died. How their lives were cut short, because she failed to stop Damien Dahrk in launching all the nuclear bombs.

“What are you doing here? I thought you went home?”

Felicity shrieked and bolted up the chair, whirling around to find Oliver standing in the shadows. Her thumping heart jumped up to her throat, in part because of the fright, and in part because it was how always her heart reacted every time she saw Oliver. She could make many things happen, she could maintain herself firm in a decision she made to break up with him, but what she couldn’t do was avoid how her body reacted to his nearness.

He was down by the conference table, and even so, his mere presence in the room was enough to make her want to run to him. She knew every inch of his body. Every imperfection and scar; she would never forget how his ripped muscles flexed beneath her exploring hands every time they made love. How those same strong muscles could hold her with a tenderness that she never knew before. How he devoted to her and made her feel cherished.

Until he lied to her.

They’ve been apart for months, but she still craved his touch. But that longing wasn’t enough to make her forget his mistakes.

Sighing in defeat for something she wouldn’t ever experience again, she said, “Oliver, I— I’m sorry. Didn’t know you were up here. I— I thought you’d be asleep.”

He went up to the computers station, where she could see his face with a little more clarity. Deep worried lines wrinkled his forehead. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

As if it was nothing, she grabbed the back of her chair and put it as a barrier between them. She knew that look he was giving her, and the longing that came with it. He wanted to wrap her in his arms. He wanted to steal her pain away. He wanted to love her.

As much as she did for him to do that too, she couldn’t allow it. She still loved him, but nothing had changed. She didn’t trust him to protect her heart anymore. And honestly, she didn’t trust herself with him, either. Beyond the fact that they weren’t together anymore, she knew that the moment in which she let herself take comfort in his arms, she would fall apart in a million of pieces. If that happened, nothing and nobody would ever be able to put her back together again.

 _Fake it till you make it_. That was her new motto.

If he noticed her tactic, Oliver didn’t bring it up.

“No, nothing happened. Just wanted to check something. And you? Why are you here sitting in the dark?”

Respecting much less personal space than she would like —something that he seemed unable to help—, he walked closer to her and sit leaning on the table with his hands at each side of him. He looked as tired as she felt. “I can’t sleep and I thought of having a drink.”

As he spoke, a faint, but distinctive, scent of Vodka in his breath drifted to her nose. “By yourself?”

He shrugged, “It’s not that we’re many in the bunker lately.”

“Right,” it was just the two of them. Thea had hung up her suit, and John was deployed in Chechnya. Felicity was not hopeful for their return. She understood and respected the reasons why they had left the team. “You know, we could find others…”

“Felicity, we’re not looking for anyone. Thea and John will come back. We need to give them time, that’s all.”

Felicity sighed. She knew Oliver wouldn’t give up easy on that matter. He was still waiting for them to return. “Well, since I’m here, I could’ve a use for a shot of Vodka right now,” she said before she knew her lips were moving.

“You would?”

What the hell not? It might help her to relax the enough to get some sleep. “Yeah, sure. I’ll do it with you.”

Saying those words and feeling heat, creeping up her neck and face, was one and the same. Why her brain insisted in making her to say those things? For once she would've loved to have a normal conversation without blurting innuendos at every turn. It was awkward enough to keep her relationship with Oliver in the platonic zone for her to say those kind of things. Worse was that he caught her. He didn’t verbally acknowledge it and got his best poker face, but she could distinguish the amused glint in his blue eyes.

“The vodka. Drink the vodka, I mean, and not you and me… you know. Having sex. There won’t be me having sex. Ever! Well, not never. Just not with you.”

And she went from amusing to hurting him. That wasn’t what she wanted.

Her instinct was to reach out to touch his arm, but she refrained herself from doing it. They didn’t touch anymore. Not ever. There were no more light squeezes on the shoulders, no more comforting back rubs, no more light brushes that promised a bolder caress once they were alone. And she missed it. Before either of them contemplated the idea of being together, those touches were her favorite part of her day. Those were in many occasions what help her to get a rough day.

“Sorry, Oliver. I— it was insensitive for me to say that. You know what? I better go. I—”

“Hey,” he cut her off. “It’s okay, Felicity. You don’t have to go. Come, I think you really need that drink.”

“I don’t know…”

“Just one.”

“Fine. Just one.”

One drink turned into many. Oliver watched Felicity scrunching her face and shaking her head as she gulped another shot… the fourth or the fifth? Seventh? He had lost count. Then, she fanned herself with her hand. Vodka was a little stronger than what she was used to, but Felicity didn’t seem to want to stop.

“Another,” she slid her glass on the table, toward the bottle.

“Are you sure?” he asked her. “You look a little…”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” she coughed up. “Just feeling a little hot. Like something burning down inside of me. I mean… down my throat. Not that you are not hot, not that I’m feeling hot down there.”

Oliver knew the exact moment when her brain caught up with her words, because she got even redder than what alcohol had gotten her. “Oh, frak, Oliver! Why my brain does this to me? Forget what I said, and serve me another.”

He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t let her drink anymore. She had glossy eyes and her moves were a little uncoordinated. And her speech slurred, too. She was a little drunk, and she should go home. And yet, he poured more Vodka in both of their glasses. He knew it was reckless and selfish, but he didn’t want her to leave. Her company that night was the balm for his soul maladies. It was the first time in months that both were sharing a moment of true friendship. It wasn’t all he was longing for, but it was a start.

Maybe it was the first step back toward each other.

He hoped so, because to see her every day and not touching her was one of the most difficult things he had to endure in his entire life. Taking in consideration the hell he lived in for five years, that was saying something. He was giving her the space she had asked of him. He tried to be mature and accept that things never would be the same, yet he knew he would be in love with her forever. Trying not to love her was tearing his heart, his soul, and his entire being apart.

Oblivious to his reverie, Felicity drank her vodka shot in one gulp, which caused her a bad coughing fit. Oliver didn’t doubt it, and broke the self-imposed no-touching policy. He slapped her back a few times to help her breathe.

“Hey, you okay?” he cupped her face, once she caught some air.

The contact quickly turned from of out concern to something more primal, more carnal. The simple brush of his thumbs over her cheeks was enough to ignite the rooted electric sexual current that they always had between each other. Even in the beginning, when Oliver didn’t even dare to dream that he could be with Felicity in that way.

Now, he could feel it every minute of every hour of every day. But he hadn’t felt it that strong in quite a while. The starvation for touching her made the experience stronger and more bittersweet. He should let her go, but his fingers were glued to her soft skin. He thought she was going to pull away, but to his surprise, she didn’t. Instead, Felicity closed her eyes and put one hand over his, and tilted her face to a side, seeking for more contact.

She gasped out his name, and that undid him. He heard in her voice the longing for him that was as strong as his for her, but he also heard the pain and disappointment in it. He wished he could find a way to erase the later. He had apologized a million of times; he had promised her, five times that, that he’d never lie to her again, but she hadn’t forgiven him yet. He feared that she never would.

She opened her eyes and looked at him directly in the eyes. Oliver knew the exact second when she got to a decision, she gave him that determined gaze he knew so well. A moment later, it dawned on him what were her intentions with him. His lower lip tingled when she brushed it with her fingertips of her free hand.

“Make love to me, Oliver.”

“Wha—” for much that he wanted to, he knew it wasn’t the right moment. Neither of them was in their right mind. “Felicity, you don’t know what you’re asking. You’re drunk. You’re gonna regret this in the morning.”

He knew she hadn’t changed her mind about him. That wasn’t make-up sex or anything like it, just a reckless booty call.

“I’m not!”

“Fe-li-ci-ty.”

“Fine! Maybe I’m a little tipsy, but I know what I’m doing… I know what I want. And I want you, Oliver. I need you. Need you to help to forget. Please, just once. I just need to forget everything. At least for a night.”

Oliver might be a little more clear-headed than her, but not for much. Her pleas, her sweet scent intoxicated him much more than an entire bottle of vodka did. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to find the will to refuse her, but he didn’t find it. When it came to her, he was willing to do anything. There was nothing that he wouldn’t do for her. He needed her, too. He opened his eyes again when he felt her hands fumbling with his belt. She undid the button of his pants and lowered the zip. That’s the moment when he lost all reservations, he couldn’t take it anymore.

Desire shot through him as she put her hand inside his boxers. He moaned and went hard instantly. It had passed too many months without feeling her erotic caresses. Her bold hand played with him, stroking him up and down. He couldn’t rein back the passion within him and it took over him. He kissed her, taking her mouth for assault and surrendering himself to the need of loving her. His hands took life on their own, roaming all over her luscious body.

She left her seat and pushed him back against the back his chair. Wasting no time, she pulled his pants and boxers lower enough to free his hard on. Then, she kissed him again. Felicity climbed up the chair he was sitting on, without breaking the kiss. Bracing herself on his shoulders, she put her knees to each side of him and straddled him. She pulled away from his lips to trailed over his strong jaw, leaving a trail of scorching kisses and licks.

Her hot whisper tickled his ear, “Need you inside me, Oliver.”

He slid the hem of her skirt up her thighs, and his hand found the way between her legs. The lace of her panties was hot and wet.

“Felicity…”

He tried to convey the depth of the feelings for her in those four syllables. Her name was a prayer, an apology, and a plea, all at once. It was a declaration of lust and love, that he didn’t dare to say in more words. He didn’t have those rights anymore.

“Not talking,” she said, nipping his lips. Felicity swayed her hips, grinding herself against his fingers. “Oh…”

He tried to pull her underwear down, but the position in which they were made impossible. “Hips. Could you…”

Grabbing her hips, he urged her to raise herself up the enough to remove the annoying lace. Felicity didn’t need much encouragement to kneel up and wiggle her hips a little, helping him to lower it down as much as possible. With no more barriers between them, Felicity gently took his thick, hard cock and aligned it with her core, before impaled herself onto it. She was hot and slick, her body accepting his length with ease. She rode him slow and deep. Oliver’s entire body trembled from the pleasure of being inside her. With every thrust of her hips against his, he wanted to cry out from the agony of aching lust that possessed him.

Felicity always had taken charge in bed and this time wasn’t different. She set the pace she wanted. Slow, but intense. He let her take what she needed from him. Desperate and hot, he trailed his mouth from her lips down to her throat, then to her shoulders. He pulled away the strap of her flimsy top off her shoulder and taste her delicate skin.

“Yes, oh yes,” she murmured as he quickened his strokes. He heard her gasps of passion, which fed his own. He pushed his hips up, meeting halfway each of her strokes down, heightening the pleasure for both.

The fact that they hadn’t taken their clothes off, made the experience more erotic and torrid. Somehow, it was dirty and forbidden.

Oliver thrust his hips up faster, knowing that Felicity was close to the edge. He could tell by her shortness of breath and in the way she was holding onto him. Those soft mewls she was making were the clearest sign that she was on the brink. For a moment, Oliver felt like she was resisting. She dug her nails on his back and she let out a soft wail. Perhaps, she was having second thoughts already. But, it was cruel to leave her like that. The least he could do was to give her a moment of bliss. A moment when pleasure was all that it mattered.

He trailed back from her shoulder to her neck, kissing and licking every inch and going for one of her most sensitive spots. “Let go, Felicity,” he told her by her ear. “Let me hear you come undone.”

When she cried out loud as pleasure rushed through her, Oliver didn’t stop pushing his hips up, driving her orgasm on, and nearing himself to his own. His breathing ragged, as waves of pleasure spread out through all of him. He couldn’t think anything except that he was with her. He leaned his head up and took her lips in a tender kiss as he delivered fierce, fast strokes to her. Hard, long, and deep. He wanted to last forever like that, her cradling his body. He wanted nothing but stay buried in her forever.

When his climax came, he grunted in bliss and agony. It had been perfect, and at the same time, it had been a nightmare. Now he had to let her go again.

Inevitably, he had to.

She leaned her forehead on his shoulder, and thanked him. Then, she pulled away from him, and lifted herself off him. He missed her at that same heartbeat. She was visibly uncomfortable as she put her clothes in order. With regret, he did the same.

“Felicity, we should talk about—”

“Oliver, no,” she cut him off. “Let’s not give to this more importance than necessary, okay? We’re adults, and after all we’ve been through, I don’t think explanations or excuses are needed. Blame the vodka, if you want to. I need to go.”

He knew that it would happen, but it hurt to hear those words all the same. She walked away, with stumbling steps.

“Wait, Felicity. You’re not in conditions to drive home.”

She opened her mouth to rebuke, but closed it a second later. After a few seconds, she opened again to say, “I’ll call a cab,” and walked into the elevator.

Oliver wanted to run to her, wanted to stop her, but there was nothing he could do. As the elevator went up, his world fell into the shadows again, just like the rest of the bunker was.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Just FYI, you can always find me on Tumblr ( **[stygian-omada-fan](http://stygian-omada-fan.tumblr.com)** ) and on Twitter ( **[@Olicity_Fics](http://www.twitter.com/Olicity_Fics)** ) where you can talk to me about Arrow or give me prompts.


End file.
